No One Outside of You and Me
by Ryeloza
Summary: The rest of the world didn't exist in that moment.  Post-ep for "Pleasant Little Kingdom."


**Disclaimer: **This is not for profit, nor do I make any claim whatsoever to any part of _Desperate Housewives_.

**Story Summary: **The rest of the world didn't exist in that moment. Post-ep for "Pleasant Little Kingdom." Rated M for language and sexual content! Turn back if that's not your thing.

**A/n: **As much as I tried to write something dark and angsty tonight, it really wasn't happening. My mind was clearly in a different place. This is for the wonderful **Adii1201**, who requested that I write a continuation of the final Tom and Lynette scene in "Pleasant Little Kingdom."

Thank you in advance to everyone who reads and reviews. I always, always love to hear what you think.

Also, I have started a Tom/Lynette community over at livejournal. The link is in my profile. Please check it out if you have a minute.

-Ryeloza

**No One Outside of You and Me**

A story by **Ryeloza**

Tom broke their kiss gently, pulling back and smiling down at her with teasing eyes. She shook her head before he even spoke, tangling her fingers through her hair and pushing it away from her forehead. Her body was still flush with emotional exhaustion, her nerves unsteady and disorienting. Nothing unfamiliar; Tom always had (and probably always would have) the ability to break her down, forcing her to react when all she wanted to do was to hide her thoughts and feelings behind some cynical mask. He constantly made her face her insecurities, even if it was unintentional, and the inevitable low that came from this was always coupled by the amazing way he built her back up.

It was probably completely fucked up and emotionally unhealthy (she could practically hear their former therapist saying this word for word), but compared to the self-destructive tendencies she used to have, this was practically normal.

"I have just had an epiphany," said Tom, this coy little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She had to resist the urge to kiss it away. "You and I are idiots."

Not quite the reassurance she'd been expecting. Still…

"Yeah. I'm not sure how that qualifies as an epiphany."

"Oh there's more."

She nodded, an exaggerated agreement. "Of course."

"We have spent the past couple days obsessing over what other people think about us. What other people think about our marriage."

"And?"

"And who gives a shit what other people think?"

In spite of herself, in spite of the fact that just five minutes ago what other people thought of her had meant the world, Lynette laughed. There was something in the way Tom said this, as though he'd been the first person to ever express this thought, that struck her as funny. "Come on," he said, surprising her by shifting back to his side. He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at her—like this was a solemn discussion or something. And to her surprise, most of the humor had left his expression. "I'm serious."

"Okay." She shrugged, unsure of his point. "So?"

"So what does that say about us?"

"We're shallow?"

Tom gave her a dirty look, but she couldn't fight the impulse to cajole him back into his amorous, silly mood. As raw as she still felt, she wasn't sure if she could handle this sudden reversal back to gravity. She reached out and rubbed a thumb over the fine stubble on his chin. "Come on, baby," she coaxed, leaning in to kiss him. He stopped her gently, cupping her cheeks with his hands and holding her back.

"All of this self-doubt…I don't like it."

And just like that, he poked the wound still so fresh in her heart. She swallowed hard, a lump rising thick in her throat again, praying that she could at least hold back the tears this time. "Tom…"

"Remember when we were first married, and everything was just…" He let out this little breath, not quite a sigh, but almost. "…I just never doubted that you were crazy about me, you know?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"And it's not that I doubt it now, it's just that most of the time I feel more like I'm _driving_ you crazy. You know, I forget to pick up the dry cleaning or take out the trash, or you hate when I sit around for hours watching sports on Sunday."

It was on the tip of her tongue to soothe this doubt when she realized he wasn't complaining—not really. It was just a fact: the honeymoon had ended years ago; it was inevitable after twenty years of marriage. And the truth was that she felt the same. More often than not, their life was the focused on the bad rather than the good—or at least the mundane rather than the extraordinary.

"At some point we stopped talking about the reasons why we love each other," he said. "And it's not that we don't, just…"

"We don't say it enough."

He nearly smiled, eyes lighting up in relief that she understood. "Yeah."

She pressed her lips together, still trying to keep the underscore of emotion at bay. "That's some epiphany."

"I have my moments."

"Yeah." She leaned forward and pecked his lips. "You do."

They were quiet for a moment. She tucked her head beneath his chin and he rolled onto his back, cradling her in strong arms. It was exactly what she needed—time to settle her nerves. Time to breathe him in and concentrate on the tender movement of his fingers up and down her arm and listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. There was this underscore of loneliness to the situation that she didn't understand; like she was forced to look back at a younger version of herself with jealous eyes. It felt so stupidly hopeless, and that wasn't them. They were still the same people, and if anything, she loved him even more now than she had then.

Hopelessness was only for people who gave up; for people who gave in.

"Your arms," she said, breaking the silence that blanketed them. As if to reinforce her words, she reached around, settling her own arms on top of his. "Nothing has ever made me feel so secure as having your arms around me."

Tom pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Lynette…"

She sat up, caught in the ambivalence of his voice—the gratitude and reluctance she could hear strangling his words. "Come on," she said. "Twenty-six letters of the alphabet. Twenty-six reasons…" She trailed off, feeling somewhat stupid, but defiantly kept her eyes locked with his. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

"You always keep me on my toes."

Unable to help herself, a smile blossomed on her face, genuine warmth and happiness overtaking the quiet despair that had been building inside of her. It might have been ridiculous, something the rest of the world would laugh at, but she could feel the need for it overpowering everything else. She leaned forward, lips pausing a breath away from him, and whispered, "Your big heart."

Tom cleared the distance, kissing her soundly and rolling her back onto her back, hovering over her as he had been just minutes before. Smiling, he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Your beautiful blue eyes. I will never get tired of staring into your eyes."

"You're charming."

"I love when you cook for me."

"That deep, low, sexy voice you use when you're trying to get me in the mood."

Tom brushed his nose over hers and pressed a kiss into the corner of her mouth. "Oh, that works, huh?" he teased, purposely using that tone with her now. It sent an unbidden shiver down her spine. "I never noticed."

"Mr. Suave."

He chuckled, kissed her again and then pulled back to look at her. "You're devious."

"That drives you crazy."

"It also really turns me on."

"Oh really?"

"Mm-hmm."

She hooked her arms around his neck, one hand twisting through his hair in that way she knew pushed his buttons. As if on cue, he leaned down and started to kiss her neck, light, butterfly-like movements of his lips against her skin. She hummed contentedly. "Your eggs are the best."

"You're an excellent mother."

"You're a fantastic dad."

Tom's tongue darted out and danced a lazy figure eight over her pulse point, and she moaned loudly, squeezing her legs together in an attempt to create some friction where she needed it most. She could feel his smile against her neck—he was always so cocky about the way he could manipulate her body—but it wasn't a one way street. Eagerly, she tugged at his shirt, nearly losing his next words as she forced it up over his head.

"You are so fucking sexy," he said, the words tumbling out muffled as she struggled to get his shirt off. She laughed, the serious tone in which he said it lost in a ridiculous moment. He shook his head at her as she tossed the t-shirt aside, stroking his fingers up and down her sides and making her squirm. "And I love to hear you giggle."

"You're great at making me laugh."

He grinned, genuinely pleased by the remark, and she took advantage of his surprise by pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. Immediately, his hands settled on her hips, thumbs stroking her through her pajama pants. "You give great head, babe."

She snorted. "Does that really count as an 'H'?"

"It does in my book."

"Yeah, well. You make me happy."

Tom stared up at her, some of the humor gone from his eyes. Almost too seriously, he murmured, "I love seeing you joyous."

She ground into him then, pressing firmly against his erection and making him groan. No need to erase all of the levity from this situation. "You joke around when I take things too seriously."

"You've got a killer smile."

It flickered to life without conscious thought, almost as though his very words had beckoned it forth. "You always keep this family together."

Tom's fingers slipped beneath her shirt, fingers skimming over her back before he gathered the hem and tugged it up over her head. She pulled it the rest of the way off, flinging it across the room, and then rested her hands against his chest and leaned forward to give him better access to her breasts. Instead, he tormented her a bit, hands encircling her ribs and fingers drawing haphazard patterns over her sides and stomach. "You're a terrible liar."

"Hey!"

"Trust me. It's something I love about you."

"Yeah, well…" She scrambled for something equally insulting. "You're lazy about getting out of bed."

Tom gave her a sharp pinch, right above her hip. "See. Lying. That drives you crazy."

"Only when we have somewhere to be."

"Uh-huh." He shook his head in disbelief. "I love the moan you make whenever I'm inside of you."

"You mumble in your sleep."

"Do not."

"Do too." She bent down and kissed him. His arms came up, pulling her closer, and she groaned as her breasts came into contact with his chest. The ache for him to touch her—really touch her—was becoming close to unbearable, and she reveled in sensation of her skin against his. "Oh God," she sighed, turning and kissing his jaw-line. "The way you nibble at my neck."

"You never give up."

"You're the only person who really knows me and still loves me."

Tom pulled back a little, forcing her to raise her head, and she met his gaze almost self-consciously. "I'm going to have to echo that one," he said quietly, and she had to shut her eyes to keep from getting swept away in the intensity of that moment. She was grateful when Tom's hands began to dance over her back again, reminding her that this was okay, that this was them, and it was safe and perfect and lovely. Slowly she sat up again, pressing back into his dick; finally, his hands rose and found her breasts, kneading them so tenderly she couldn't stand it.

"The little prayers you say under your breath," she gasped, forcing her mind to stay on track despite the way his thumbs were now grazing over her nipples. "I've always loved that."

"You're powerful. God, it's a turn-on."

She tipped her head back, the lower half of her body twisting in circles now, desperate to relieve some of the pressure building inside of her. "Your quiet strength," she said. It was one of those secrets about him that most people didn't know; she got all the credit for being strong, and the truth was that he was the one holding her up most of the time.

"Your quick wit."

She grinned at that, lowering her eyes to look at him again. He seemed to take it as permission to flip them again, and she gasped as he turned her onto her back. Instantly, his lips were on her neck again, this time frantic. They trailed down to her collarbone, kissing her there just for a moment before moving to her breasts. "You…Oh God." Her back arched as he sucked her nipple into his mouth; it was becoming harder and harder to form a coherent thought. "You ramble sometimes when you get nervous. It's cute."

"You're rash."

"Yeah, well you're spontaneous."

"That's why we're a dangerous combination." He kissed a path across her chest, tongue darting out to tease her nipple. "God, babe, I love your tits."

"Really?" she laughed, half-scathingly. "That's your 'T'?"

His response seemed to be lowering his mouth back to her breast and tugging at her nipple with his teeth. Whatever the man's fascination with boobs, it certainly seemed to pay off. "Jesus," she hissed, rocking her hips up into his. Her hands began to claw at his pants, pulling at them with a sudden desperation. "I trust you," she managed to say as he moved to help her get rid of the garment.

"You're unbelievable," she added as he threw his pants aside, reaching for hers as she eagerly lifted her hips off of the bed. "In a good way."

"You're uninhibited."

As if to prove that point, he pressed his fingers against her, stroking all around her clit without ever touching her right where she needed him to. She whimpered, almost lost in her longing for him now, fingernails scraping up and down his back as he continued to tease her.

"You're hilarious when you're wasted," he said, one finger slipping inside of her. She moaned loudly, the moment a strange juxtaposition with his words, mind racing to form a lucid thought.

"You work so hard."

He worked another finger insider of her, slowly working her into a frenzy with just his hands. "You let me watch x-rated movies."

She laughed, but it almost came out as a sob because she was feeling so fucking much at that moment. "You've never tried to make me _make_ an x-rated movie."

Tom twisted his fingers and her entire body nearly jumped. "Oh fuck," she hissed, arms wrapping around his neck, tugging him up. "Oh God, Tom, please, I need you inside of me. Please."

He kissed her roughly, positioning himself at her opening and slowly pushing into her. She groaned loudly, throwing her head back and wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "You're wonderful."

"You're amazing."

He began to move, thrusting in and out of her erratically, already so, so close, and it didn't even matter because she was about to fall over the edge. He was muttering now, a string of, "God, you're gorgeous. You're perfect. Fuck, you're incredible," that washed over her as she writhed and moaned beneath him. The words were only adding to everything building inside of her, her body practically on fire, desperate for release. Fumbling, she reached down and pressed her fingers to her clit, moving them in frantic circles as Tom continued to pound into her, hitting that spot again and again and again…

Her entire body seized up, pleasure radiating through her so completely that she could scarcely breathe. Tom kissed her sloppily, his movements becoming more and more unhinged as her body tightened with the unstoppable force of her orgasm. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he groaned, and then he was coming too, as completely and totally lost as she was. A moment later he collapsed, half on top of her, this solid mass of warmth and masculinity that made her feel so fucking fragile and feminine and loved.

He kissed her—her shoulder, neck, ear, pressing his sweaty forehead into her cheek and chuckling shakily. "Jesus," he sighed. "God, that was…"

She laughed, pushing her hair away from her forehead. "Yeah," she agreed, because there were no words for what had just happened. No way to express how much they'd needed exactly that.

"'Z'" he muttered.

"Huh?"

"We didn't do 'Z.'"

She shut her eyes, too satiated and languid to access that part of her brain. Tom was kissing her again, still just these lazy, light ghosts of kisses against her skin. "You're zany," he murmured, teasing her and loving her all at once.

"You're one in a zillion."

He laughed, rolling onto his back. She followed him, resting her head against his chest, shivering despite the surge of heat still flush within her. The rest of the world lay forgotten outside of these walls, outside of this bed, the entire universe consisting of nothing but the two of them.

Exactly the way it was supposed to be.


End file.
